Can't call me Bertha
So, there's a story there. I'm willing to tell it to you, but first: you need some background info.
Last night was a good night, but we were out kinda late. We went out to the "end of block" party and had a good time, dancing and trying not to look in one of the directions in the bar- it had a bad view! Ask me about it later! So on our way home, my roommates and I were discussing when we'd head to the grocery store in the morning, to get food to bring/help us make what we were bringing to the barbeques. I told them 10, 10:30.
The story:
This morning dawns. I finally get out of bed shortly after 9. (Not bad having climbed in around 2). I puttered around, finished off another box of cereal (what am I going to eat the next few days?? Should I open up the boring crisp rice? I have one bagel left...hmm) and looked around the kitchen
DISASTER!
Well...you know, we've been studying for exams, food gets made, dishes get rinsed/stacked...big mess. (Only a couple meals worth, but our last day of studying we decided that lunch could be an hour-long making affair--study delaying tactic #47). Yeah, so I decided I'd do them this morning. I was almost halfway done at around 9:45 and I looked at the clock and said to myself: "If she's ready to go by ten I'll tell people they can call me Bertha". We didn't actually head out for groceries until closer to 11:30, and the individual in question- still no where near ready to leave the house, so she didn't join us!
What does this mean?
(Not a Lutheran question today, my friends)
YOU CAN'T CALL ME BERTHA. hehe
Yup, so there you have it.. an Orlando Bloom story has hit the internet...or not...that's just what I call my long, drawn out, often pointless or almost pointless stories.
Also today: 2 barbeques- both went really well...I had too much to eat, so the next couple days of packing, cleaning and moving (including clearing cupboards of random this and that) could help me wear off some of that great food I enjoyed. People enjoyed my Shish kabob- it was fun to make. I'd do it again.
I think that today (combined with exam stress, writing and late night partying) has made me tired. I'm off to bed, I 'spect.
Last night was a good night, but we were out kinda late. We went out to the "end of block" party and had a good time, dancing and trying not to look in one of the directions in the bar- it had a bad view! Ask me about it later! So on our way home, my roommates and I were discussing when we'd head to the grocery store in the morning, to get food to bring/help us make what we were bringing to the barbeques. I told them 10, 10:30.
The story:
This morning dawns. I finally get out of bed shortly after 9. (Not bad having climbed in around 2). I puttered around, finished off another box of cereal (what am I going to eat the next few days?? Should I open up the boring crisp rice? I have one bagel left...hmm) and looked around the kitchen
DISASTER!
Well...you know, we've been studying for exams, food gets made, dishes get rinsed/stacked...big mess. (Only a couple meals worth, but our last day of studying we decided that lunch could be an hour-long making affair--study delaying tactic #47). Yeah, so I decided I'd do them this morning. I was almost halfway done at around 9:45 and I looked at the clock and said to myself: "If she's ready to go by ten I'll tell people they can call me Bertha". We didn't actually head out for groceries until closer to 11:30, and the individual in question- still no where near ready to leave the house, so she didn't join us!
What does this mean?
(Not a Lutheran question today, my friends)
YOU CAN'T CALL ME BERTHA. hehe
Yup, so there you have it.. an Orlando Bloom story has hit the internet...or not...that's just what I call my long, drawn out, often pointless or almost pointless stories.
Also today: 2 barbeques- both went really well...I had too much to eat, so the next couple days of packing, cleaning and moving (including clearing cupboards of random this and that) could help me wear off some of that great food I enjoyed. People enjoyed my Shish kabob- it was fun to make. I'd do it again.
I think that today (combined with exam stress, writing and late night partying) has made me tired. I'm off to bed, I 'spect.
2 Comments:
"This incoherent rambling brought to you by the letters Q and Y and the number (-i)"
It wasn't so bad, really, but you need some sleep Naomi!
Come visit us soon!
why bertha? let's go home...
Post a Comment
<< Home